


The Butterfly Effect (Love Is Love Is Love Is Love)

by teacupsandcyanide



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anguished Declaration Of Love, Arvind gave me gladness and I have created ....... Sadness( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), Domestic Dirk/Todd, Extended Scene, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Issues, LGBTQ Themes, Love Is Love Comic, M/M, Missing Scene, aesthetically topical metaphors because I know no other way of being, extremely queer Dirk Gently, more like angst with a ridiculously fluffy ending tbh, references to autistic/adhd Dirk because I know no other way of being, songs that legally belong to gay people only, tiny ambiguous reference to farina, two very small references to the t/f makeout, what's a gender? the Gay Agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 14:59:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18741397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandcyanide/pseuds/teacupsandcyanide
Summary: Todd is staring down at the parade with a strangely contemplative expression. His eyelashes are catching the light like strands of spun gold. Suddenly, in the pit of Dirk’s stomach, something flutters quietly – like a butterfly, getting ready to spread its wings and generate an air current that will compound into a tornado several million miles away.“Dirk,” says Todd slowly.The butterfly stretches, warming up.“I’ve been meaning to ask. Just out of curiosity, not that it’s any of my business, but, having nearly died with you a half dozen times now …”The butterfly’s wings arch, softly.“Are you gay?”The butterfly flicks its wings open and takes flight.-Dirk kisses his best friend on their balcony in front of the Pride Parade. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Things escalate wildly into identity issues, old hang-ups, anguished declarations of love, and inopportune sabotage of the situation by their tiny bastard cat.





	The Butterfly Effect (Love Is Love Is Love Is Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Arvind: I'm gonna give the gays exactly what they want.  
> Me: [holding this precious gift in my horrible little hands] What if I ... took this cute, fluffy comic ... and broke its fingers
> 
> don't worry I tape them back together at the end
> 
> This story contains some delving into the sadder sides of the lgbt+ community, touching briefly on experiences of exclusionism and identity conflict. Personally I think we have a great capacity for love and inclusionism, but ... we can be messy bitches, let's be honest. Also identity is mutable and confusing.

Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody” summons Dirk’s attention late on a Saturday afternoon. Dirk realises then that there has been a steadily growing commotion somewhere in his general vicinity, possibly for over half an hour, but he’s been too hyper-focused on making his biro pen turn into a wiggly noodle in front of his eyes to notice. His brain is just attuned to certain wavelengths over others, and 80’s post-disco dance-pop is one of the things he will probably always automatically pick up.

Dirk tosses the biro aside and follows the source of the noise out onto the concrete balcony. His and Todd’s shared apartment looks down onto one of the main roads in this part of the city. Usually this is a cause of annoyance or even upset for both of them. Dirk finds it somewhat distressing to be woken up by the sound of an aggressively and unnecessarily loud motorbike roaring down the street near his bedroom at 3 AM, and Todd finds it even more distressing to be woken at 3:10 AM by Dirk wailing from a sensory overload.

Today though, living on a main thoroughfare is cause for celebration, because their street is a _causeway_ for celebration. Along with the undeniably catchy synth stylings of Whitney, the air is full of rainbow flags, streamers, and confetti – and Dirk’s personal favourite, glitter. People of all shapes and colours are dancing in a parade down the street; cheering, singing, smiling, laughing. Marchers with multi-coloured beards and purple hair are waving banners and signs. Across the street a group of people on another balcony catch Dirk’s eye as they wave and yell to the parade, and one girl pulls another into a kiss. Dirk smiles, and is quickly lost in thought.

The sound of the glass door sliding open behind him makes him jump and squeak loudly.

“Dirk, has – oh my god, it’s just me.”

Todd eyes Dirk’s hands, which had flown up the moment he thought he was under attack. “Are you … planning to karate chop me?”

Dirk puts his hands down sheepishly. “You startled me.”

“Has Boy been fed? He’s meowing.”

“He’s lying,” Dirk snorts, turning back to the parade beneath their doorstep.

Todd shuts the door and picks his way through Dirk’s pot-plants, all of which are either dead, dying, or riotously overgrown. Dirk glances down and tuts, nudging Todd in the thigh to edge him away from one of the planters.

“Careful! My sweet-peas are finally flowering!”

“Your sweet-peas are taking over,” Todd mutters. He leans against the balcony next to Dirk. “I got two bottles of detergent, it was on sale.”

Dirk perks up hopefully, “And my tea?”

Todd rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I got your tea.”

“Oh, good, they finally sell it at Normal Wholefoods now? About time, it’s the only –”

“No, they don’t,” Todd says, clearing his throat. “I just – um. I went to Rich People Wholefoods. It was on my way anyhow.”

Rich People Wholefoods, so nick-named for its extravagantly expanded deli section and general wider range of stock, is fifteen minutes out of the way of Todd’s afternoon walk, but Dirk doesn’t point this out. He hides his smile in the collar of his jacket.

“I’ll make some later for you, if you like,” Todd says – then, as is his way lately, immediately changes the subject. “So. What’s the parade about?”

Dirk looks at him side-on, amused. Clearly Todd did not think that one through.

“I don’t know, darling,” he retorts, jerking his head towards a sign that eruditely reads: _I’m Here, I’m Queer, Fuck You_. “What do you think it’s about?”

Todd makes the blustery, defensive noise he makes whenever Dirk toes at his nerves but does so very sweetly.

“I didn’t _see_ ,” he grumbles. “I was looking at – I mean, I just saw … people, and – is the noise okay?”

Dirk smiles. “The noise is fine.”

They watch the parade as it passes by in a long, glittery stream. Whitney finishes and gives way to the slightly more subdued strains of Keane’s “Somewhere Only We Know.” Dirk absent-mindedly scans the crowd for any sign of purple and greyscale stripes – not really because he desperately wants to see them, per se. It’s more like he’s keeping an eye out for an old friend, who he knows doesn’t show up to parties much, hasn’t talked to in a while, but still feels fondly for. Mostly he just enjoys the music, and the simple presence of Todd standing next to him, and the afternoon sun slowly turning everything pinkish-gold.

Todd is silent, and Dirk glances covertly at him. Todd is staring down at the parade with a strangely contemplative expression. His eyelashes are catching the light like strands of spun gold. Suddenly, in the pit of Dirk’s stomach, something flutters quietly – like a butterfly, getting ready to spread its wings and generate an air current that will compound into a tornado several million miles away.

“Dirk,” says Todd slowly.

The butterfly stretches, warming up.

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Just out of curiosity, not that it’s any of my business, but, having nearly died with you a half dozen times now …”

The butterfly’s wings arch, softly.

“Are you gay?”

The butterfly flicks its wings open and takes flight.

Dirk keeps his eyes on the rainbow hues of the Pride parade. An orange balloon floats above the crowd. His mind flickers and flutters with half-formed thoughts that are slowly spinning into whorls.

“Gay?” he says, neutrally. “Well, I try and maintain a positive outlook. I dare say there are some who describe me as reasonably jolly …”

He can hear – or sense – Todd holding his breath.

“Oh, you mean,” Dirk tilts his head, “sexually?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dirk sees Todd looking at him, watching him in turn out of the corner of his eye.

“It’s just that you’ve never mentioned a girlfriend,” Todd says, almost apologetically, as if he’s regretting that he asked, “and obviously, the jackets …”

Dirk pulls a thoughtful face. “You know, I’ve never fully considered that.”

It’s not _exactly_ a lie. There are things about his identity that Dirk has considered at length. Some of them are questions he worked out the answers to a long time ago. Some of them he’s never really had to think about, because one doesn’t need to consider whether or not water is wet. Others are things he’s considered, resolved … and then, in recent years, has begun to consider again. Sometimes, the Universe even offers him an opportunity to test his considerations out.

His thoughts spin and spin and spin, into whims that become _I wonder_ that become _quite possibly_ that quickly resolve into _fuck it, let’s find out_. The probability machine with five missing cogs that is Dirk’s brain dings a solution into existence, and Dirk – who has never seen any point in over-questioning the probability machine – puts it into action immediately.

“Wait a minute.” Dirk straightens, smooths out his jacket – because if he’s going to do this, he’s going to do it properly. There should be an amount of finesse to these things, yes?

Then he makes his move. It’s swift, one motion – but it’s a move he realises has been years in the making since the moment he saw a scruffy, beat-up man in a shaggy blood-splattered coat standing in a stairwell two years and nine months ago. The significance of it seems to spin everything into slow-motion; the last step he takes towards Todd, the hand that slides up Todd’s chest and cups the back of his head to pull him in, the other hand that lands naturally on Todd’s cheek and stays there for the duration of the kiss.

Because that’s what Dirk does; on a two second impulse he pulls his best friend into an abrupt, open-mouthed kiss on their balcony two stories above a Pride Parade and over two years after he realised he was in love with him.

All in all, it’s a very Dirk move to make.

It’s been years since Dirk kissed anyone. The last time it had happened, he really hadn’t enjoyed it very much – very wet, rather too much tongue involved, ‘ _I’m very sorry about this Richard but I think I’m perhaps, possibly, probably not the kissing type_.’ Dirk is a little worried at first that he’s forgotten how, or that he maybe didn’t know to begin with. He doesn’t seem to be doing a very good job either way, because he’s dimly aware that Todd’s hands are in the air on either side of him, as if he has no idea what to do with them.

Luckily, Dirk is nothing if not resourceful, determined, and a little bit stubborn. He knows this is his one shot. He makes it count. He tilts his head. The kiss tilts with him, the crowd cheers, and then – Todd’s lips move against his, and for a heartbeat everything goes silent. It’s a very slight move, a shift of Todd’s mouth, barely the flit of a butterfly’s wing, but Dirk’s heart and mind burst into whirling, lovely chaos. Everything is confetti, everything is Whitney and Keane, everything is glitter. Everything is the rush of lovesick arousal in his stomach, and Todd’s bottom lip between his and Todd’s stubble and Todd’s chest brushing against Dirk’s old ice-cream-patterned tie – the one he was wearing the day they met. Everything is, for a split second, more connected than it has ever been before.

So now he knows. It’s almost unbearable. Dirk ends the kiss as quickly as he began it, his senses fraying at the edges, his mind glittering like the aftermath of a firework show. He releases Todd and turns away, because he knows he won’t be able to bear Todd’s expression.

He can hear Todd breathing heavily, unevenly. Knowing that for better or worse, Todd is breathing like that because of him is too overwhelming a thing; Dirk has to talk over it, he has to keep moving.

“Hmmm.” He puts a finger to his cheek to stop his hands from shaking, and his own hand brushes against his over-sensitive mouth and triggers a flip in his stomach. “That was …” He pauses, trying not to be terribly obvious about struggling to catch his breath. “… Interesting. Definitely. Possibly. Probably? Who knows. Perhaps I’m holistically sexual?”

He’s either running at the mouth or thinking aloud; both are likely dangerous right now. It’s hard to stop though, because his heart is quivering and his hands want to but he can’t let them – he’s never felt so overcome with the need to burst with energy that he’s absolutely fixed to the spot.

Todd still hasn’t said anything. Dirk is … wildly aware.

“Love is love is love is love, right Todd?” he says to fill the air with something other than tension. It occurs to him that possibly, probably, he’s the only one feeling said tension. Dirk is used to being the only one feeling something in this friendship, though, so that’s par for the course. It also occurs to him that maybe that was too many _is loves_ but he can hardly be expected to be exacting when his entire brain and body are feeling like they’re made of shimmering, shivering light.

“Right.”

Todd doesn’t sound angry. He doesn’t sound upset. He almost sounds like he’s smiling, though he probably isn’t. He’s probably giving Dirk one of his Looks, the ones that imply that Dirk is a strange person who does many strange things, but strangely Todd is happy enough to put up with them.

Dirk knows those Looks by heart, and usually they make him happy. He doesn’t care to see one right now, though; he wants a different look entirely, one that he knows he will probably never see Todd direct at him. That’s okay though – or at least, Dirk had been sure that was okay until approximately one kiss ago.

He’s flown too close to the sun again.

“It’s getting late,” Dirk says, making for the door in a roundabout turn perfectly executed so that he can avoid looking at Todd at all. “I’ll make a start on dinner, shall I? We were going to do Farah-Style Pasta, weren’t we – do you still want that?”

“Dirk …”

Dirk slips into the flat and shuts the balcony door behind him. He briefly considers, in a twang of panic, locking Todd out there. That would probably be bordering on making a scene though, so he bolts for the kitchen instead.

When he gets there he finds Boy, who is sunning himself on the bench and who glares at Dirk profusely when he enters. Clearly, he’s extremely cross that he was abandoned in the flat for a full ten minutes while Todd and Dirk had a party on the balcony without him. He doesn’t seem to care that one of his owners is having what feels like an out-of-body experience. Dirk picks him up and holds him against his pounding, thudding heart.

“Heal me with your magic purrs,” Dirk begs him with a quiet, shaking voice.

Boy, ever the contrary, beeps at him angrily and wriggles his little cat arms. There’s a small struggle between 5”9 adult man and six pound cat, which is ultimately won when Boy manages to kick Dirk in the face and make a bid for freedom into the open cabinet under the counter.

“Please, son …” Dirk bends down unsteadily, but all he can see are Boy’s beady little eyes glowering at him from the darkness amid the wok and the pots.

“Dirk.”

Dirk shoots up with a shout, throwing his hands up again – and Todd catches them in both of his.

“Jesus, Dirk, you – are you okay?”

Todd’s brow is crinkled in concern, and he’s standing very close, and Dirk looks away quickly.

“Fine! Absolutely fabulous! Just making dinner. Boy is helping. As you can see.”

“Dirk.”

Dirk pulls his hands back. “Did you pick up the pasta sauce?”

“Yes, but …”

“Wonderful. Be a dear, fetch it for me, will you?”

It’s not uncommon for Dirk to say something like this completely blasé, these days at least, but in the immediate aftermath of the episode on the balcony it seems wildly provocative. Dirk nearly bites his own tongue off the moment the sentence comes out of his mouth.

He compensates by whirling around and facing the countertop. “Where’s that pot?”

Todd sighs from behind him and shuffles sideways to the pantry. What Dirk, rather stupidly, hasn’t anticipated in his cunning scheme of ‘ _get Todd away from me, get him away as soon as possible before I do another silly, reckless, deeply-important-friendship-endangering thing_ ,’ is that the pantry is very close to where they keep the pots. Dirk also hasn’t considered that the while the pots are low enough to necessitate bending to retrieve them, the pantry shelf is not. The result is that in the same instant that Dirk bends over to get the pasta pot, Todd leans forward to reach the condiments shelf, and Dirk’s arse ends up being pressed directly into Todd’s –

Dirk jolts up with a half-strangled and very undignified yelp. Todd swears loudly at the same time, and stumbles back, off-balance. Dirk turns and presses back against the counter, trying to calm his heart, which is thudding anew.

There’s a thick silence. He can feel Todd’s gaze on him, but Dirk keeps his eyes fixed on the floorboards, on the three-foot space between them. Todd’s scuffed trainer inches forward.

“Dirk. Can we –”

“Make dinner?” Dirk says with all the manic brightness he can muster up. “Sure am trying to, Todd, you silly thing.”

“No –”

Dirk inches off to the side, sliding towards the sink as Todd’s feet come closer. “You get the sauce first, then I’ll get the pots. Or I’ll get the pots and then you get –”

Todd talks over him, “Dirk, I can’t tell if you’re spinning out or if you’re – if that was totally normal for you, but it wasn’t for –”

“Totally normal!” Dirk forces himself to make the closest thing to eye-contact he can stand right now, addressing Todd’s eyebrows and trying not to think about why they’re still bunched tightly together. “Very normal. We’re _adults_ , Todd. We’re _grown-ups_.” A little bitterness, perhaps, seeps into his voice, but hopefully Todd doesn’t notice.

Todd narrows his eyes. He noticed. “Okay, no –”

Dirk turns around. “Can you please just get the pasta sauce –”

“Forget about the pasta, Dirk, I’m trying to talk about what just happened!”

“Why?” Dirk says insistently. “Why would we need to talk about it? Friends can kiss. It was just an –” The word ‘ _experiment’_ hovers on the edge of Dirk’s tongue, and he feels suddenly sick. “I was just testing –” That’s not any better. “It was an investigation!”

Behind his back, Todd at first says nothing. Then, quietly, “And?”

“And, what?” Dirk says, twitchily.

“What did you – did you solve it?”

Dirk shuts his eyes. His heart flutters and cries by turns. “No. Yes. Maybe. Unsure.”

“That is … every possible answer you could have given me …”

Dirk turns on him, feeling both pained and put upon, “Why do you _care_?!”

“Don’t you?!” Todd cries.

“I … _I just want to make PASTA_!” he shouts, flinging one hand out in emphasis. His hand whacks into the cupboard above the counter with full force as well as a loud bang. “ _SHIT_!”

Todd moves forward, reaching for Dirk’s hand; Dirk tries to escape the situation entirely by fleeing for the doorway – and then Boy, who has apparently not enjoyed the domestic, shoots out from under the counter at the worst possible moment. Dirk trips over the spooked cat, and Todd catches him in his arms.

Dirk gets one whiff of Todd’s familiar, comforting smell and his head absolutely rushes. He scrambles out of Todd’s arms and sideways, crashing into the fridge instead.

“Dirk! Stop – hold still!” Todd half-pins him against the fridge, holding him by the arms. “You’re gonna hurt yourself! Is your hand okay?”

Dirk forces himself to steady, though he feels like vibrating out of his skin. “It’s fine, really. It sounded worse than it was.” That’s mostly not a lie. Dirk’s pain scale is probably a little off-kilter by the standards of most.

“Let me …” Todd tries to catch at Dirk’s hand.

Dirk evades capture for a moment, trying to wriggle away; then Todd presses up against him, leg to leg and chest to chest, pinning him in place. While Dirk is temporarily distracted by what feels like all the breath leaving his body, Todd uses his now free hand to grab Dirk’s injured one.

Dirk is now holding still – he’s holding very still indeed. His brain chants quietly _oh dear, oh no, oh fuck, oh whoopsie-doodle-doo_ , but Todd seems blissfully unaware. He’s studying Dirk’s wrist, frowning, and the care in his face up close is as incandescent as the Sun.

“Okay, I get it,” Todd mutters as he inspects Dirk’s hand.

Dirk doubts he gets it, because said inspection is making his skin tingle far more than hitting the cupboard hurt him.

“You like trying things out,” Todd says, in a measured way that suggests he’s trying hard to remain calm. “You throw yourself into everything. I know, oh my god, I know. But this isn’t like making pasta with Farah or learning the bass or –”

“Your hands are shaking,” Dirk realises aloud.

Todd drops Dirk’s hand as if scalded. He backs away haltingly, pressing his hands against his jeans.

“Why are your hands shaking?” Dirk’s probability machine is whirring again, and quickly it starts spouting rapid-fire, deeply unpleasant, _very-upsetting-oh-god-please-no_ solutions. “Did I hurt you?”

Todd throws a spanner in the works by barking out an abrupt laugh. “Uh, no. I think that was the most …” He seems to see the panic in Dirk’s face, and he says quickly but adamantly, “No, you didn’t hurt me. I promise, okay? It was just –”

“You didn’t say anything after.”

Todd gives him one of his more difficult to decipher looks, one which seems to fall loosely into the category of ‘incredulous.’ “Because you nearly knocked me out!”

Dirk blanches. “I thought you said I didn’t hurt you!”

“No, ‘knocked out’ as in –” Todd shuts his mouth and flushes with colour to the tips of his ears. “Look, obviously it wasn’t your first kiss, it wasn’t mine either, but wasn’t _nothing_! It can’t have just been nothing –”

“Why not?” Dirk counters, unsure how to interpret the faint strain of desperation in Todd’s voice. “It could be. We could just – we could just forget it ever happened!”

Dirk suggests this because he dearly wants to forget how it felt, and he assumes that Todd will want to forget it too, though for different reasons. That must be the issue here; Dirk has crossed a line and it simply needs to be redrawn.

Instead of looking relieved, Todd flinches back as if Dirk has hit him. His face drains of blood completely.

“… I don’t – want to …” He speaks slowly, as if he’s realising the words in the same moment that he says them.

“But you didn’t even enjoy it,” Dirk tries to point out, because if Todd isn’t going to be the logical one here then he supposes that he’ll have to step up to the plate.

Todd just looks stricken. “Why would you think I didn’t?”

Dirk winces, “You … flailed?”

Todd goes from heartbroken to defensive with almost impressive alacrity. “You _took_ me by _surprise_!”

“Well, _so did you_!”

“What?”

“So did you, two years ago,” Dirk snaps impulsively, then in a tone that smacks less of ‘ _you started it_ ,’ he amends, “Well. A year and nine months. Also ten minutes ago. _You_ took _me_ by _complete_ surprise.”

“… What?” Todd stares at him.

Dirk bursts out, “I thought I wasn’t a kissing person!”

The admission fills his chest with a rush of panicked energy. He pushes past Todd, pacing the short length of their kitchen, tugging at his hair.

“I thought – I didn’t know I was gay. I mean, I knew I was gay, _obviously_ , who wouldn’t – but I didn’t know I was _sexually_ gay as well as all the other things!”

“What _things_?!”

Dirk throws his hands up. “Sort of asexual! Sort of queer! Sort of non-binary! Sort of everything, and so, really, sort of _nothing_!”

Todd is speechless, and Dirk is aware that he’s probably almost completely lost him, but he can’t seem to stop now that he’s started – which, to be honest, is just classic him.

“And now I’m also gay?” He twists his shaking hands together. “But not really? Not one hundred percent completely? I’m ten different things that are supposed to be mutually exclusive? I’m – I’m nothing at all.” His throat burns with the realisation of it. “Nothing fits. _Nothing’s_ solved.”

“Dirk …” says Todd, hesitantly, “you’re not making sense.”

“I never do. To anyone else – or to _me_ ,” Dirk says bitterly.

Todd tries to appeal to him, still looking confused, “I thought you were okay with that.”

“I was!” he cries, “I _was_ okay with it! All of it! The whole – you don’t like sex? That’s okay. You don’t like kissing. That’s okay. You do like people? That’s okay. Gender – _what’s that_? Mostly this. A bit of that – sometimes, always, _never_! That’s _okay_!”

“Dirk …”

“You’re all alone and even in the community that’s meant to be for people just like you, you can’t find your place?” Dirk wants to shut up, but he can’t; he’s completely trapped, the confines of this tiny kitchen are making him – how does Todd put it – spin out. He’s spinning and spinning on the inside, spinning into a tornado. “Nobody wants you in their place either, because you don’t fit in – you don’t belong, even in _the_ place of belonging? _That’s okay_!

“You’re all alone and you find someone, and maybe they’re for you? That’s okay! Suddenly you’re not alone, you’re very not-alone! You’re the least alone you’ve ever been in your life and things are changing and developing and there are all these new feelings? That’s okay! You hated kissing, you _hated_ being touched sexually, but now you’re so in love and suddenly you can’t stop thinking about it – but he definitely doesn’t feel the same way, so you’ll never have to find out what you’re missing? That’s okay!”

“Dirk!”

Todd grabs his wildly gesturing, trembling hands, but Dirk is already crying.

“Nobody wants you?” he sobs, “Nobody wants you? That’s okay! You’re _fucked_! It’s fine! No harm done! Touch yourself and think of him and cry about it afterwards, it’s all okay – you’ll never have to know how lovely it would be …”

“Dirk, _please_ …” Todd’s voice breaks, and Dirk’s attention snaps onto him entirely, and –

Todd is crying too. His face is lined with tears; his blue eyes are bright and pleading. The tornado in Dirk’s mind dies instantly at the sight of him so upset.

In the two years and nine months that he’s known him, Dirk can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen Todd fully, openly cry. Almost every instance occurred after over a year of friendship had lowered Todd’s defences, reserve, and general emotional repression. Even now, it happens rarely, and Dirk isn’t at all prepared for it.

“Todd?”

Todd’s hands move unsteadily from Dirk’s hands to cradle his face with infinite gentleness. “I didn’t mean – to do this to you.”

Dirk tries to shake his head, but Todd moves in closer.

“No, I’m sorry. I was – I wanted to … know. Dirk, I’m really sorry.”

As Todd’s face crumples, Dirk’s heart pangs terribly.

“No, no, Todd, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. I’m …” He tries to smile reassuringly, breathing in, “I’ll be okay. It was just curiosity. Hubris. All that. I’ll be okay.”

Expecting Todd to let him go, Dirk tries to move away – but Todd steps closer still, wiping away Dirk’s tears with his thumbs, nearly pressing up against him again. He’s softer this time, but his face is so close, and his body is warm. Dirk’s heart begins to race again. 

Todd seems to be struggling to find the right words to say something. Finally he manages, with obvious difficulty, “We – we moved in together three months after we met. We have Farah and Tina over for dinner every second Sunday. Last night you talked to my mom on the phone for an hour. You keep bringing plants home and either killing them or enabling them. We have a cat. I didn’t – I wanted to know what all that meant. Whether maybe it meant – the same things to you, as it did to me.”

Dirk is caught between the overwhelming loveliness of having Todd this close, the simultaneous pain of exactly that, and genuine confusion. “What?”

Todd makes a wet, choked noise, and it takes Dirk a moment to recognise it as a laugh.

“I’m sorry. I should have known by now that anyone who kisses me works out they’re gay right after.”

Dirk shakes his head again, “You didn’t know I was going to kiss you.”

“No, it was really more of a ‘wildest dreams’ scenario, but …” Todd shrugs, “I can be kind of a pessimist sometimes.”

Dirk stares at him. He can feel his probability machine going slowly insane.

“I mean. I’d definitely thought about it.” Something like a smile is beginning to curl the corner of Todd’s mouth. “I just, you know … There’s a difference between fantasising about something for a really long time and actually expecting it to happen.”

Dirk is utterly transfixed by the hint of Todd’s smile, and still aware of his probability machine frantically trying to compute some sense into all of this. He’s generally just feeling quite overcome with feelings and sensations, and he has to draw his head back slightly in order to think clearly.

“O-kay …” he says slowly, “I’m sorry. I think I’ve … checked out here somewhere and walked back into entirely the wrong hotel room – I’m … what? You, you – _what_? With the … you – did you just say …? Fantas –”

“You said love is love.”

“… Wh-what –” Dirk stutters into silence as Todd lets go of his face, only take to his hands instead.

“On the balcony,” he says softly, “after you kissed me. You said that love is love is love is love.”

“I may have done,” Dirk says shiftily, “I – I –”

Again, he’s derailed into a half-articulated nonsense syllable when Todd begins to intertwine their hands, threading their fingers together.

“Listen,” Dirk tries to say, “in my defence, it’s the first time I’ve – _thoroughly_ investigated whether I was gay in that sense, and a very long time since I’d tried to snog anyone, and the investigation turned up very … very surprising – well, okay, not surprising, but in-intense and – and _discombobulating_ revelations – so I was very, how you say, out of it –”

“God, you’re strange.”

“I _beg_ your pardon?”

Todd is definitely smiling now, and oh, it curves his lips so nicely. “You’re strange. And you do – really fucking weird things. And you talk a lot. Mostly about nothing. And you kiss me on our balcony in front of a crowd of people. And I love it.”

Dirk looks at him nervously. “You mean … You put up with it.”

“No,” Todd replies calmly, “I love it. I love all of it.”

“But …”

“Everything about you.” Todd’s eyes flicker over Dirk’s face, taking him in as if he’s an intricate and dazzling work of art. “I love the way you see the world. Even when it is … baffling.” The smile breaks into a grin. “ _Especially_ when it’s baffling.”

Dirk stares back at him. The tears have dried on his cheeks in silvery tracks; Dirk wants to wipe them away. He goes to do so without thinking, but Todd grips his hands tighter as if he thinks Dirk is going to try to run away again.

“Dirk, you’re never going to fit in a box. Any box. Five whole boxes.” He struggles for words again, then says, “It’s – it’s like you said, you’re holistically sexual. Maybe you’re holistically gendered too. You’re interconnected – you’re everything at once. That’s like, your whole thing, being everything at once. I like you that way,” he adds, with a touch of something soft and sad, “don’t you?”

Dirk swallows. “… Yes.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

He can feel the tears rising up in him again, blocking his throat. “It’s just now I – I know. And I can’t –”

“Dirk, you said …” Todd’s thumb strokes the back of his hand. “You’re in love. You said love is love. Are you in love with me?”

Dirk almost sobs again, “Who _else_ would it be?”

And then Todd, who is apparently not satisfied with just how far he’s pushed Dirk in the last ten minutes, does something else that makes him feel like he’s seconds from keeling over. He raises Dirk’s hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to his knuckles.

Dirk feels the probability machine short-circuit, sputter, and explode.

And Todd is sighing into his skin, “Dirk. My Dirk.”

Dirk’s breath is caught in his chest and trying to escape, fluttering madly. “What?”

Todd lifts his head and locks eyes with him. “Dirk. Let me kiss you again?”

From the street outside, dulled by the closed doors and windows, Dirk’s persistently distracted brain picks up a melody he’s never heard before. Todd is looking at him with an expression Dirk has never caught directed at him. He’s starting to wonder if maybe he just hasn’t been looking carefully enough, but his heart stutters and starts warily.

“… Do you need to check if you’re gay too?” Dirk asks in a moment of blind, completely thrown stupidity.

Todd makes a noise in the back of his throat; he presses closer, harder.

“I don’t need to check anything,” he says, “I just need to kiss you.”

His voice has gone low and thick, and it makes Dirk’s head spin. Suddenly words are … extremely hard to fathom into sentences.

“Dirk,” begs Todd, “I need to kiss you. Please.”

And then there’s a moment, a brilliant, shining moment where Dirk finally connects the dots, finally processes not only what Todd is saying, but what it means. And everything, _everything_ bursts and glitters anew. The probability machine reassembles, better, brighter, kinder – and Dirk is hit with dozens of new, beautiful possibilities.

“Dirk? If you still want –”

Dirk kisses him. This time, Todd responds almost immediately, and very forcefully; he kisses him back with so much need that he knocks Dirk back into the counter and nearly into the sink.

“Shit, sorry –”

“Oh, Todd,” Dirk says with a grin, “do _not_ apologise.”

Todd has barely a moment to mutter, roughly, “Oh, _fuck_ ,” under his breath before Dirk pulls him back into the kiss.

They go under together. Where the kiss on the balcony had been firm and fixed, an open-mouthed but fairly tidy application of pressure, this one contrasts. This one moves, it trembles and shudders. It flurries and spins. Dirk’s brain catalogues every new sensation as each gives way to yet another, and his heart takes flight.

With the way that Todd’s lips are moving against his, Dirk is finding it impossible to remember how kissing could ever be less than high-inducing. Dirk thinks for a moment that maybe Richard and Thor were just bad kissers, and Todd just happens to kiss like an angel, but he has to admit that this kiss is a bit wet – wet, and very messy, and overrun with keening desperation. He’s also absolutely certain that he likes it that way.

Then he thinks maybe it’s that tonguing isn’t nice – and then, as if he’s psychic and looking to prove him wrong, Todd flicks his tongue against Dirk’s lips, and Dirk actually feels himself go weak at the knees. A brand new sensation, that, and one that he’d never actually taken literally when he’d heard people talk about it.

He slackens slightly against Todd, sinking dizzily into the kiss, and nearly loses his balance. Todd steadies him but doesn’t stop; instead he puts his hands on Dirk’s waist, and a moment later Dirk finds himself being thrust up against the pantry door with very little finesse but a depth of passion that sends shivers to the ends of his fingertips. Todd pins him there and kisses him relentlessly, and if one slight shift of his mouth in their balcony kiss had turned Dirk’s brain to chaos, the way Todd kisses him now is taking Dirk’s entire being apart atom by atom.

Dirk clutches at him, grabs fistfuls of Todd’s old shirt and pulls him in closer, tighter, harder. Rainbow lights break and bend behind his eyes, the distant strains of the parade that is barely fading from the road outside weave in and out of Dirk’s awareness. Music and singing and chanting meld with the heartrending sensation of Todd’s kisses slowly bruising his mouth with love, love, love. Reality warps and for a few heartbeats, strung together like pearls on a necklace, Dirk feels as though he is standing out there in the midst of the parade, kissing the person he loves and belonging. Then the music fades away, and the pearls slip off the string and tumble, and Dirk feels with an equally shattering tenderness exactly what is happening. He is standing in the little kitchen of his flat, kissing the person he loves and belonging.

Todd presses him into the pantry door, breaking off between kisses to say in a hoarse, broken voice, “I love you … I love you …”

And Dirk, he can’t stop smiling – in fact he feels like he might cry. He responds in kind, but Todd doesn’t stop saying it, he kisses the words into the skin of Dirk’s neck as if trying to imprint them there. When he lifts his head Dirk sees that he, too, is smiling, and tears are in his eyes again.

“Todd, you’re …”

“Happy,” Todd sighs against his mouth, and Dirk clenches his hands on Todd’s shoulder just to keep himself upright. “God, Dirk, I never thought I’d be this happy.”

Dirk laughs breathlessly and giddily. “Well. I never thought I’d enjoy kissing this much.”

The ghost of anxiety flickers in Todd’s eyes. “Is it okay?”

“Is it – Todd. Are you _insane_?”

“Okay, okay!” Todd says hurriedly, “I just – you’re making a lot of noises, and like, god they sound good but then I had this thought that maybe they weren’t and you –”

“I’m making noises?” says Dirk with genuine surprise.

Todd turns pink, and his voice cracks slightly when he replies, “Yeah. A few.”

“Oh.” Dirk grins, slowly. “Well, I didn’t hear them. I’m not sure I believe you – maybe you’re making it up …”

Todd frowns, “No I’m not, you …”

Dirk bites his lip thoughtfully, and Todd’s eyes lock onto the motion instantly.

“Actually,” Todd revises slowly, “now I’m not sure either. We should … probably look into that.”

“Hmmm, yes,” Dirk pulls at the front of Todd’s shirt, pushing away from the fridge. “I should … investigate. Of course, I’ll need assistance.”

“Always,” Todd replies.

He lets Dirk begin to drag him out of the kitchen and into the hall that leads to their bedrooms, following along obligingly. He’s gazing at him the whole time with exactly the expression Dirk has always craved from him, though Dirk is really beginning to reconsider if all the times he caught Todd looking at him with a complete and total moon-eyed look weren’t actually, as he’d previously assumed, just as pals. He puts that thought aside for further questioning later; he has more pressing matters at the end of his fingers.

“You’ll have to work hard, Todd,” Dirk says, mock-sternly, “you are the one who made said outrageous claims of ‘noises,’ after all. You’ll have to … back up your evidence?”

He’s quickly losing the thread of the investigation bit, but Todd, as always, is indispensable with his help.

“I think I know a few ways to make you moan,” he says, and Dirk promptly loses his balance.

No, it’s just the bloody cat. Todd catches Dirk by the arms once again as he trips over Boy for the second time that evening. Boy, harbinger of destruction, chirrups crankily and scuttles away into the living room.

“Excellent work, Todd,” Dirk gasps as Todd pulls him upright.

Todd raises his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t want you going to anyone else for it.”

“Are we talking about catching me when I fall or making out against our fridge?”

“Either one.”

“And I wouldn’t want you … assisting anyone else.”

Todd softens. “I don’t want anyone else. Just you. Always you.”

Dirk can’t resist asking, because a part of him has been dying to know ever since he realised it was a probability. “How long?”

Todd shakes his head with a faint, half-laugh, “Longer than I’d know, probably. I mean, definitely.”

“When did you know?”

“There wasn’t a moment,” Todd says softly. “It was always there. It just kept … growing.”

Dirk’s heart glows quietly. “Me too.”

Todd grins. “Like one of your fucking plants. Slowly growing out of its pot and before you know it, the house is full of replanted violets.”

“My violets were beautiful, thank you very much.”

“You were hanging them from the ceiling!”

“Boy kept eating them!”

“There were so many aphids in our fucking apartment …”

“Kept the place lively!”

“ _Dirk_.”

“Todd?”

Todd stands there in the middle of their hallway in a very familiar pose, face scrunched with disapproval, hands curled at his sides. Dirk takes him in with a surge of pure happiness, and the probability machine dings with a new idea to combat situations like this.

Dirk pulls Todd into a sunny, smiling kiss, cupping one hand around his head the way he did on the balcony. Todd makes a noise of protest, but it’s extremely half-hearted. Dirk has no doubt that attempt twenty-three of exactly this tactic will be met with stony refusal, but early days have their advantages.

“Todd, love,” Dirk says as he breaks the kiss, “be a dear and pick a bedroom, will you?”

Todd responds with a choked, flustered noise that quickly resolves into a growl. He grabs Dirk by his tie and kisses him hard, biting down on Dirk’s lower lip and coaxing a groan out of him.

“You,” he pants as he fumbles with the closest bedroom door, “drive me crazy when you do that.”

“Huh, s’what?” Dirk slurs hazily. He’s thoroughly discombobulated again.

“Love. Dear. Darling. Sweetheart.”

They tumble into the bedroom, arms around each other.

“What’s – wrong with that?” Dirk says between deep and increasingly heated kisses. “You don’t – like? I can –”

“No, you asshole,” Todd laughs, “I never thought you’d say them and mean them. I wanted you to. God, I used to imagine –”

“Love,” Dirk breathes, pressing his forehead to Todd’s and feeling like he’s going to burst with joy. “My love. My Todd.”

Todd’s breath catches. Dirk decides it’s one of the best sounds he’s ever heard. Better than Whitney. Better than Keane.

Todd raises a hand to Dirk’s mouth and traces the smile there. “Love is love is love is love,” he whispers.

“Right,” Dirk replies softly, and Todd pulls him down onto the bed.

And so – two years and nine months since they met, over two years and eight months since Dirk started having romantic feelings for Todd, two years and six months since they got a flat together, a year and nine months since Dirk started having _sexual_ feelings for Todd, and eleven months since they got a cat, Dirk Gently and Todd Brotzman finally concur – they’re dating. Probably. Possibly. No, definitely.

Dirk solidifies it fifteen minutes after they enter his bedroom, ten minutes after kissing gives way to honest-to-god groping, and three minutes after Todd finally manages to divest him of his shirt and tie.

Dirk stops halfway through his investigation of ‘What Makes Todd Brotzman Hard And Other Interesting Things I Discovered In My Afternoon Off.’ It’s a pity, because he was enjoying said investigation, and he was really enjoying the things that Todd’s tongue was doing to his mouth, but the thought won’t leave his mind.

“I think my boyfriend is a holistic kisser,” Dirk announces, right after he catches his breath enough to get the words out.

For a brief second Todd looks panicked and confused, as if he doesn’t know who Dirk’s boyfriend is and is deeply hurt that Dirk didn’t mention him before Todd confessed he was in love with him and started trying to tear his pants off. Then he connects things, and his face relaxes into an expression so sappy that Dirk is both overcome with the bliss of it and a little embarrassed that he never noticed that it had been there all along.

“A holistic kisser? Is that a compliment?”

“Mmm,” Dirk hums, running his hands down the soft panes of Todd’s bare chest, “very compliment.”

“Very compliment?”

“Mmm.” Dirk kisses him again. “You need an assistant. All good holistics need an assistant. May I offer my services? I’ve been told I’m a knock-out.”

Todd smiles down at him, stroking back strands of hair from his forehead. “I’ll have to ask my boyfriend first. He’s a holistic detective.”

“He’ll say yes.”

“Oh?”

“Definitely.”

“Definitely, then,” says Todd, and he proceeds to prove to Dirk that – when not taken completely by surprise – he does, in fact, know exactly what to do with his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed please leave me a comment! I'm a little nervous about this one because it's the angstiest thing I've thus far published so feedback would be extremely appreciated.
> 
> If you like my fics check out my [Tumblr](https://teacupsandcyanide.tumblr.com/) so you can find out just how unbearable my personality is, and if you would like to give this fic a kiss on a balcony you can support it by reblogging the link to it [here](https://teacupsandcyanide.tumblr.com/post/184707510117/the-butterfly-effect-love-is-love-is-love-is)!
> 
> This fic now has a sequel drabble, [The Hurricane](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18766162)! My partner wrote it and she's very good !! and please do go read it if you enjoyed this fic!!!


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